Thus Spoke Zarathustra: The Convalescent Summary & Analysis

One morning in his cave, Zarathustra springs out of bed, shouting like a “madman.” His animals flee in terror. Zarathustra summons everyone to awaken—but then, under the weight of a staggering thought, he collapses as if dead. When he revives, he lies in bed, pale and trembling. His eagle brings him food. At last, he stirs, and Zarathustra’s animals tell him that the “wheel of existence” turns unceasingly. Zarathustra smiles ruefully at them; his animals already understand the redemption that it has taken him all this time to realize. Humanity is cruel to itself, burdening life with sin, cross-bearing, and penitence. But Zarathustra has learned that humanity’s wickedness is its greatest strength. Yet he is disgusted that man’s best is yet so small. Even the “little man” recurs eternally, which grieves Zarathustra.

Zarathustra’s animals urge him to go out into to the world now—he should sing new songs for humanity, accompanying himself with a “new lyre.” It is his destiny to be “the teacher of the eternal recurrence.” All things have already existed an infinite number of times—for Zarathustra, this is not a fearful truth, but a happy one.

Zarathustra’s animals remind him that he teaches that his recurrence is not to a new or better life, but to the same life. He teaches the great noontide and the Superman. And now, it’s time for Zarathustra’s down-going. His animals fall silent, and Zarathustra silently communes with his soul.